“’Tis Muswani!” cried the Ayuti, and vaulting the rail, he rushed forward to meet his steed.
“Great Scott!” cried Seymour, “if that don’t beat all. Fancy the old elk getting through safely.”
Mervyn’s eyes glowed with excitement.
“Grand!” he cried; “it’s just what I needed. The elk’s the very thing to confirm my story. If——”
“Ship in sight!” bawled Garth at that instant. His comrades followed the direction of his gaze. Away on the distant horizon, bathed in the blood-red rays of the dying sun, appeared the masts and funnels of a large steamer.
“Thank Heaven!” breathed the scientist, joyfully; “our troubles are over at last!”
* * * * * *
“Say, Seymour, how’s this strike yer?”
Haverly skimmed his copy of the “Metropolitan Gazette” across to the baronet.
“I guess Mervyn’ll have a word or two to say about that,” he went on; “for sheer impudence the party as is responsible for that classy drivel takes the biscuit. I reckon, figuratively speaking, he’s just about mopped the floor with the professor.”